


Semper Fi

by fairhearing



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Anal Sex, Angst, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Harems, Intimacy, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Non Consensual, Oral Sex, Peril, Pets, Porn With Plot, Protectiveness, Public Sex, Sexual Slavery, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairhearing/pseuds/fairhearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: "Sulu and Chekov are Kirk's harem boys.  Maybe Kirk needs them to act like his pets in order to be seen as an authority figure with the natives? ... I would really love if all three of them actually do have sex, all of them reluctantly enjoying it, maybe?"</p>
<p>Classic Aliens-Make-Them-Do-It, with accordingly high levels of angst and porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Semper Fi

* * *

  
It would be easier, Pavel knows, if the captain could blame himself for this; it might be easier for him to bear, _possible_ to bear, if this were a result of the captain's own failure -- failure to fully research this planet and its mores, to monitor transmissions, anything. But Kirk had memorized every detail of every report, read every available cultural analysis, combed through every iota of research regarding the newly warp-capable planet Patroklos. Its social "particularities." He would have never let Chekov and Sulu accompany him without being certain they would be safe; he was angry that they were the only qualified pilot-navigator team on the ship and didn't want them to come at all. They had to reassure him over and over again that it was fine, part of their jobs, that their guises were no different than any other cultural roles they'd had to appropriate for Starfleet, even, God, even joked with him about exactly this, wondering aloud if they should kneel before him, waggling their eyebrows till the captain finally laughed and gave in.  
  
No one could have anticipated this.  
  
They learned about it too late; their last day here, the last meeting with the continent's High Chancellor, during the planet's daily five-hour-long communications blackout period. They watched as the chancellor signed the last treaty, smiled, and then reeled in the delicate chains of gold and silver connected to his own two always-attendant slaves -- his "Hands," as they are referred to here -- until they lowered themselves between his legs.  
  
A show of power? A gesture of goodwill, a religious ritual? All they knew was that it was something dark and forbidden enough to have been kept a secret from all of Starfleet's most desperate eyes.  
  
When it was over Kirk managed a smile of delight; he nodded in appreciation along with the rest of the audience before asking a polite pardon. He led Pavel and Hikaru to one of the villa's darkened rooms, breathing hard as he knelt with them on the floor and cursing through gritted teeth when his communicator still broadcast nothing but silence. His name was called from the Chambiere Grande within; then repeated a moment later, less patiently this time, and Kirk only barely managed to stand up before the chancellor appeared at the door to beckon them back.  
  
The first thing they learned about Patroklos is this: the refusal of an invitation means death. For the refuser, and for his Hands, both Right and Left.  
  
Pavel is shaking hard as he tries to buy time by nuzzling slowly down Kirk's body, like he saw the chancellor's Hands do. But it's expected from him, the pretty young boy, wide-eyed and viriginal and clearly a recent purchase. All the Patroks saw it -- bathed him with others of his age in the villa's warm milk baths, wrapped him in in soft cotton and white silks before gently re-locking his silver collar around his neck. But Hikaru has no such excuse, as Kirk's Right Hand; somehow he's keeping himself steady and smooth as he mirrors Pavel down Kirk's right side.  
  
"I must thank you again for your kindness," Kirk keeps saying. His hand is trembling in Pavel's hair, and probably in Hikaru's, too. He's trying so hard to distract the delegation watching this, get them to invite the three of them to something else, to win against this no-win situation. Pavel's eyes sting when he thinks of how his captain would gladly die to save them from this, and he briefly presses his face to Kirk's chest as if he needs comfort, too.  
  
The chancellor says nothing, watching Pavel and Hikaru's performance with hollow eyes, like everyone in the room. The tension is palpable, the disapproval mounting, and Pavel knows that they have to go further than this. Hikaru catches his gaze around Kirk's shoulder: he's trying to reassure him without words, trying to tell him everything will be all right, like he always does. His eyes are dark, lined with smoky black kohl, looking more gorgeous than Pavel can remember. Pavel never told Hikaru how he looks at his eyes all the time.  
  
Pavel squeezes his eyes shut and drops to his knees, working up the courage to actually do what's expected here, to the captain.  He's trying very hard not to cry.  
  
Then he feels a brush against his cheek. It's Kirk's fingers, stroking him; he glances up to see the captain looking down at him, his eyes a little wet, the only part betraying him.  
  
"Pavel," he says softly. "Go on."  
  
The captain's hand is nudging his chin toward Hikaru's.  
  
Pavel's lips part in disbelief. He looks up at Kirk, who's just watching him steadily, sadly. Like he knows what Pavel has been wanting in secret this whole time.  
  
Shaking, Pavel glances back. Hikaru looks frozen in place, staring back at Pavel; he swallows once, almost imperceptibly. His lips are daubed right in the center with gold, echoed in the gold collar around his neck and the gold gauntlets around his wrists, as Pavel's mouth and neck and wrists are silver. Pavel feels lightheaded, staring at him; he feels like this is his fault somehow.  
  
"Hikaru," he whispers, as his eyes fill with tears. "I..."  
  
He can't continue, but Hikaru seals his lips over his, and Pavel whimpers his sob into his mouth.   
  
Hikaru's mouth feels just like Pavel always knew it would, soft and warm and perfect, but like this, like this? The crowd murmurs sighs of approval and Pavel hates them, hates every one of them, but Hikaru's hands are gentle on his face and their tongues are brushing together in hot hesitant touches that are each like a shock down Pavel's spine. He whimpers, pressing closer to Hikaru, closing his hands over the gold gauntlets; they're kissing over their captain's thighs, on their knees in front of an alien audience, but something is making Pavel forget all that, forget everything but Hikaru.  
  
When they part, they're panting. Hikaru's lips are swollen, still shining with gold, now brightened with an overlay of silver. He's cupping Pavel's face in one palm and Pavel feels like he might cry again, but from something else this time. He closes the distance, wrapping his arms around Hikaru's shoulders, rubbing against his body like the chancellor's Hands did to him.   
  
Soon he becomes aware that Kirk is stroking his hair, and Hikaru's, too, petting them both as they kiss.  
  
"Up," he hears Kirk say, at length, in the voice he's expected to use here.  
  
At first Pavel's frightened again, knowing what he's expected to do before all this is over. But he saw the last split second of Hikaru and Kirk sharing a glance when he opened his eyes, and they're standing him up now like they have a plan, and he trusts them both, trusts them always, trusts them with everything.  
  
The captain braces him from behind, his hands closed gently around Pavel's arms. Hikaru kisses him again, backing him up so he's pressed flush against Kirk's chest, and Pavel's eyes sting again when he figures it out. They're shielding him, protecting him from the eyes watching this. When Hikaru has him pinned, he grinds against him again, deep and warm. Pavel lets out a muffled gasp and breaks the kiss to bury his face in Hikaru's chest.  
  
The crowd is murmuring in approval, liking this, but Pavel can block it all out now. He clings to Hikaru, panting into his skin as their cocks rub together through the cloth, whimpering when he gets close. Kirk is stroking his back and murmuring reassurances at the back of his neck, the brush of his lips like warm kisses just at Pavel's hairline. The captain doesn't even seem to be aware that he's doing it.  
  
" _Hikaru_ ," Pavel cries, his voice muffled, hips bucking. Suddenly there's hot skin around his erection; Hikaru's reaching under the fabric to palm the head of his cock, to keep his clothes clean, to save him that indignity, too, and Pavel comes with a cry, whimpering as he spills into Hikaru's hand.  
  
Afterward Hikaru pants hard into Pavel's hair, his other hand moving under the fabric of his own clothing, and it's only moments before he's choking out the muffled gasp of his own orgasm. His hips buck hard against Pavel's before they slow, then still.  
  
After a second Pavel pulls back to see Hikaru watching him, his eyes heavy-lidded, his mouth swollen and panting. He brushes one thumb over Pavel's cheek. Kirk's arms are still around them both, holding them up.  
  
"Lovely," they hear someone say.  
  
It's the chancellor. He's watching from his place at the head of the delegation, politely rubbing his fingers together in this planet's equivalence of applause. Kirk steps back gently, and Pavel is happy to sink to his knees again at Kirk's side and bow his head, avoiding all eye contact, his breathing starting to slow.  
  
"Thank you," says Kirk. "And now we must --"  
  
"The Union, of course," says the chancellor.  
  
Kirk stills; Pavel's heart stops.  
  
"The Union," says Kirk, only barely managing not to make it into a question. Because of course he knows what it is.  
  
"We await," says the chancellor.  
  
"The young one seems particularly in need of it, perhaps?" says the chancellor's wife, her two Hands echoing her dainty, feminine laugh.  
  
Pavel stares at the ground, trembling hard. It will be this way, then. His first time will be like this. He can feel Hikaru's eyes on him from the other side of Kirk. Even if it's with Hikaru -- He can't stop a hot tear from falling to the floor.  
  
From the corner of his eye, he sees Hikaru get to his feet.   
  
Pavel blinks up through his tears. Hikaru's facing Kirk now, his head still bowed low. The captain looks as shocked as Pavel feels, though he's hiding it well, keeping his jaw set and staring at Sulu like this was all expected.  
  
Slowly Hikaru uncurls his hands from fists and rests them gently against Kirk's chest, swallowing hard. He still hasn't looked up, not once, when he begins to press hot kisses down the captain's neck.  
  
Kirk lets out a gasp.  
  
"Hikaru," says Kirk in a whisper, grabbing Hikaru's manacled wrists to still him. He stares into Hikaru's eyes, and Hikaru stares back; he's almost as tall as Kirk, and his face is serious, steady. Only someone watching very closely would notice the desperation in his eyes.   
  
"Please, sir," he says quietly.  
  
Kirk glances briefly where Hikaru's doing anything not to look: at Pavel.  
  
And Pavel understands at last. Hikaru is protecting him again -- protecting him from this. He wants to move, to say something, to do something, but it's like he's frozen in place.  
  
 _I can't_ , Kirk mouths, the most infinitesimal expression of heartbreak on his face.  
  
"Please," whispers Hikaru.  
  
The crowd grumbles with impatience, and Kirk lets out what sounds like a curse as he pulls Hikaru back to him.  
  
They don't embrace or kiss or make it a second longer than it has to be. Kirk grabs the oil provided by a slave with such angry force that her tray clatters to the ground -- the crowd just titters at this display of amorous impatience -- as Hikaru strips naked and gets to his hands and knees. Even this sight isn't enough to break Pavel from his paralysis, until someone in the audience takes note of Hikaru's exotic dark features, the shade of his skin, as if commenting on the weather. Pavel notices the tiny tremble that goes through Hikaru's limbs at this, the one he tries to hide, and finally Pavel realizes. Hikaru is frightened, too.  
  
Pavel is crawling to Hikaru before he finishes the thought, bowing his head to kiss him and cover him, the way he did for Pavel. Hikaru lets out a tiny sound of surprise against his lips, but Pavel just stays where he is, eyes fiercely shut, as though challenging anyone to stop him.  
  
He can feel Kirk's warmth behind them. He has the oil in his hand -- Pavel saw it -- and his fingers are between Hikaru's legs, but he seems unable to move.  
  
"Hikaru," Pavel hears him whisper against Hikaru's back.  
  
"Please." It's the only thing Hikaru can say without exposing them all. He bucks back slightly against Kirk's hand. "Sir, please --" He gasps suddenly, and Pavel knows it's because Kirk has worked his fingers in.  
  
But they're being too slow, it's looking too suspicious; there are rumblings of doubt in the crowd. It has to be now.  
  
"Sir," says Hikaru desperately, and Pavel can hear Kirk's tiny ragged sigh.  
  
"God -- I'm sorry --"  
  
Kirk's so quiet Pavel can barely hear him, and for a crazy second he wonders if it was Hikaru he was apologizing to, or if it was Pavel himself. But then Kirk leans forward, his breath sounding ragged and broken as he pushes in, and Hikaru winces, his teeth gritted and his eyes clamped shut.  
  
Kirk freezes at once; it's clear he wants to pull back, but he can't, he can't. Hikaru is supposed to be his Right Hand, they're supposed to have done this countless times, and the chancellor is watching closely, as if this really is a test.  
  
Hikaru breathes out shakily, loudly, and Kirk seems to get the message; he pulls back slowly before pressing in again, a little further this time. Kirk has his chest sealed completely against Sulu's back, as if he's trying to protect him, too, and when he leans forward again he curls his hands over Hikaru's, lacing their fingers together. And when Kirk finally starts moving, in slow, gentle thrusts, Hikaru lets out a sound at last: a long, low groan.  
  
Pavel looks back at Kirk, He's staring down at where he and Hikaru are connected, his mouth wet and open as he watches himself sink in and drag out, as if he can't believe what's happening. It's too much: Pavel feels his cock getting stiff at the sight.  
  
" _Yeah_ ," whispers Hikaru, his head bowed low.  
  
Kirk lets out a groan. He takes Hikaru's hips in both hands and begins to fuck him deeper, still slow, beginning to pant as Hikaru's muffled sounds of pleasure get louder and louder. It's impossible, but this whole situation is impossible, it's like a dream, and when Kirk grunts and pulls Sulu up against him, holding him tight against his chest as he starts to fuck him hard, Pavel can only watch, his mouth open.  
  
Hikaru moans, his cock hard and flushed between his legs, his face shimmering with sweat, gorgeous.  
  
"Capt -- Master," he gasps.  
  
"God, Hikaru," Kirk whispers into Hikaru's ear, eyes shut tight as he fucks him, and Pavel thinks suddenly that he should back away, that he doesn't belong here, as part of this -- but then Sulu's eyes open.  
  
"Pavel," he moans, straining for him.  
  
Pavel scrambles over, kissing Hikaru desperately, drinking down first his relieved whimper and then the sharp cries he lets out as he's fucked. He feels Hikaru's cock against his hip, so hard, bobbing with every thrust, and before Pavel can even think he's dropped to his hands and knees to suck that cock into his mouth, though he's never done it before, never dreamed he might do it to Hikaru before.  
  
He expects to hear a gasp, or a shout, but Hikaru is silent, arching back as though he could touch the ceiling as he begins to buck his orgasm into Pavel's mouth, his come hot and salty and so good on Pavel's tongue. It's Kirk who shouts, squeezing the breath out of Hikaru as he begins to pound him hard, once, twice, three times. When he comes, he shoves his in cock as deep as it can go, making Hikaru scream, slamming Hikaru's cock down Pavel's throat and making Pavel choke as he struggles to swallow every drop.  
  
When it's over they just lie still for a moment, panting, Hikaru's hands in Pavel's hair and Kirk still glued against Hikaru's back, softening inside him, his hand resting protectively on Hikaru's gold collar. It's then that Pavel realizes Kirk's other hand is resting against Pavel's own neck, on the silver collar there.  
  
"The Union," says the chancellor quietly, and the audience murmurs in agreement.


End file.
